


Jurassic Adventures: Summer Camp

by SvengoolieCat



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Jurassic Park Fusion, Crack, Gen, Humor, Sequel, Snark, Velociraptors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 16:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20195251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SvengoolieCat/pseuds/SvengoolieCat
Summary: From the same slightly unhinged mind that brought you last year’s Jurassic Adventures (Jurassic Park AU, which featured 007 as a ferocious, tiny velociraptor, and Q as his long-suffering handler), comes a highly unanticipated brand-new adventure. Q and his tiny raptor pack of 00s face their most difficult challenge yet: Summer Camp.





	Jurassic Adventures: Summer Camp

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:  
1\. Apparently (according to my accidental and not at all peer-reviewed 10 minutes of Wikipedia research) velociraptors were basically the size of a common turkey, or goose. The horse sized Utahraptors are the ones the movies use and weren’t even discovered until after the first Jurassic Park movie had been out for a while. Talk about a lucky break, right?
> 
> 2\. Unbetaed, so all mistakes, errors, and typos that escaped my obsessive proofing are just part of my natural charm.

It was that time of year again, the one that all park councilors and employees everywhere quickly learn to fear and dread.

Summer camp.

Q abhorred it. Jurassic Adventures teetered on the brink of chaos on a normal day. Add in hordes of children from privileged families running amok and getting into places they shouldn’t, the sheer amount of overtime paid out to traumatized employees because Management seems to think that all hands need to be on deck, and Murphy’s Law, and the whole park became a ticking time bomb. Q avoided the campers as much as possible, (he hadn’t liked kids when _he_ was a kid, and the feeling had not changed) but the higher-ups eventually caught him, and then Q had been tapped into wrangling a different kind of monster than he was used to: human children.

Each camp lasted a week. The campers had run of the park in the off-hours, as well as behind the scenes tours, and in the case of the safer, non-child eating sort of dinosaurs, they helped keepers with care and feeding. Usually the park hired summer staff—schoolteachers looking for summer paychecks and education students from universities who needed internships—to deal with the arts and crafts and daily activities. But every week, one of the camp nights was called the Sleepover.

The Sleepovers were the staff’s least favorite part of the summer camp and the campers’ favorite. The campers were split up into groups of five, and instead of sleeping in their dorms, they were randomly assigned to one of the exhibits. They took their sleeping bags and bunked down in the exhibit observation galley, chaperoned by two park employees.

Honestly, Q preferred the kinds of monsters that could tear his face off, and he had told Tanner something to that effect.

“We need you on night-duty for tonight’s Sleepover,” Bill Tanner said, ignoring Q’s histrionics. He stood outside of the velociraptor enclosure, speaking through the bars which meant Q heard him clearly and couldn’t pretend otherwise. They were wise to his crackling radio trick.

“Night duty?” Q said. “It’s bad enough you have me dealing with the monsters while I’m here in broad daylight. Now you want me to chaperone at night? Where does the madness end? Dinosaur art made out of macaroni and glitter?”

Q didn’t take his eyes off the velociraptors at his feet. They were the size of common turkeys (the big ones were called Utahraptors, and the park only had two of those) but that didn’t mean that velociraptors were less dangerous: they could leap like popcorn and he really didn’t want one getting stuck between the decision of whether to perch on his shoulder or gnaw affectionately on his head. Ideally, he’d prefer neither the perching nor the gnawing.

Currently they were clustered in a semi-circle around him, tails swishing and eyes shiny bright.

“I’m watching you, 005. Don’t think I don’t see you thinking about jumping on me. And if you try to eat my shoelaces again, 008, you and I will have words.”

008 snorted rudely and chittered. Clearly, 007’s rambunctious behavior was catching. “Don’t backchat me, young man,” Q said. “I hatched you into this world and can take you out again just as easily.”

“Anyway,” Tanner said, feeling like they’d gone off-track. “I’m sending Felix to help you chaperone. And basically, all you have to do is wait for them to pass out and then you get to sleep on the clock, at time-and-a-half pay. The doors will be locked. It’ll be fine.”

Q made a disgruntled noise. 007 looked at Tanner and hissed, correctly identifying the source of Q’s agitation. As one, the rest of the velociraptors averted their attention from Q to Tanner behind the sturdy bars, and there was a low staticky sound as the hiss spread through the group. Tanner eyed the ferocious little dinos warily. There was something eerie about being the object of their unblinking, pondering attention.

Q’s camaraderie with the nine velociraptors in residence was something of a legend. They called him the “Raptor Whisperer” for his ability to seemingly hold entire conversations with his pack. Tanner only knew 007 on sight—the little raptor was unusually loyal to Q, and he had distinctive blue markings down his side, while the others were mottled shades of green, red, and grey—but Q knew them all.

Underneath his unimpressed demeanor, Q loved the little demons. And while Tanner was certain that they would eat Q if given the opportunity, they seemed to regard him with some depth of feeling in their cold little reptile hearts. Whenever Q went on vacation, finding a replacement was a trial, and only Felix Leiter or Eve Moneypenny had enough standing with them to be able to handle them. Other trainers upped and quit within a day of taking on the velociraptors, even after observing with Q to prepare. The velociraptors moped for a few days, and then they went feral and actively terrorized everyone in their immediate vicinity.

“It’s all right,” Q said. “Stand down, double-ohs.”

007 chirped inquiringly at Q, looking at his favorite wrangler and then evil-eyeing Tanner and back again. Tanner could almost hear the little dinosaur saying _Are you sure, because we could eat that one for you, no problem. Just open the gate_.

“Eating people is not a good way to settle disputes,” Q said.

The double-ohs looked at Q with the condescending patience of cats who loved their very stupid human, because _Of course eating people is a very effective way to settle a dispute_.

Tanner decided to beat a hasty retreat. When Q and his conversations with knee-high predators started making sense, it was time for a nap and whiskey.

“You’ll get your group at ten pm.” Tanner walked backwards from the gates. Never turn your back on the enclosures, that was Rule #1 drilled into every Park employee. “Felix will probably be here earlier. Have fun!”

Q clicked his training device in the sequence that the velociraptors understood as a dismissal, and he backed towards the gate. “Well, my pretties,” he said, free to use the endearment now that Tanner was gone. “We’re expecting company this evening and I’ll have to prepare. Off you pop.”

The velociraptors were not on the usual rotation for a Sleepover. The exhibits were usually the harmless dinosaurs or the Aquarium. If they had a Sleepover by a predator’s enclosure, usually the kids wanted the T-Rex, and that was rare occasion indeed. The velociraptors weren’t as exciting to ten-year-olds, and given 007’s propensity for escaping, not necessarily safe, either.

But orders were orders, so Q dutifully waited until the park closed to set out the foam sleeping mats in a neat row. 007 and 004 broke away from the pack to watch Q prep the air-conditioned observation galley, heads tilting this way and that, following Q’s motions as he vacuumed the floor and then cleaned the fingerprints and smudges off the glass of the floor-to-ceiling exhibit gallery windows. Q set up his low, portable hammock, the one he used when one of his raptors was ill and needed care at night.

One of the attendants arrived at about 9pm with a cooler of snacks and drinks. “Good luck,” she said, “they’re all awful.” She scurried away.

It wasn’t an exaggeration. The group of campers immediately established themselves as combative.

“They’re small,” said Bobby. Or Robby? Q squinted at the name tag, but he didn’t particularly care. “I thought they were bigger.”

The 12-year old’s face was viciously disappointed. This was one of those kids who made a sport pulling wings off flies, Q surmised.

“I wouldn’t underestimate them,” Q said lightly. It wouldn’t do to look offended at the insult to his favorite little reptilian terrors, as it would just give the small human terrors an opening.

He’d been investigating a weird sound and feeding his raptors some frozen mice as a special bedtime snack when the kids and Felix Leiter had arrived outside the double gates separating the velociraptors from freedom. Q was still in between the two gates, with the raptors on one side chittering suspiciously across at the children standing on the other side of the outer gate. As was his habit, Q didn’t turn his back on the raptors, so he turned sideways and watched both the kids and the dinos.

“They’re lame,” Bobby said. “My dog is bigger.”

“I expect your dog isn’t smart enough to look at you and think _food_, though.” Q said. _If only_.

Bobby crossed his arms over his chest and looked unimpressed, a gesture and expression echoed by the other four boys that Q and Felix Leiter had been shanghaied into watching for the evening. They’d only been in Q’s presence for five minutes, and he already wanted to drop them into the T-Rex enclosure to see if _that_ impressed them before they got eaten.

“I want to pet one,” said another boy. He had the sort of long face that vaguely resembled a weasel. His nametag said John.

“They’ll take one of your hands off,” Q said shortly. He made eye-contact with 007 tossed him the last mouse. 007 snatched it neatly out of the air and slurped it whole with a scary little reptilian grin full of teeth.

“See my hand?” Felix said. He showed them his right hand, with the missing fingers. “This is what happens when you try to pet a raptor.”

“Lame,” reiterated Tim.

Q sighed. It was going to be a long night. Whether it was Q’s own attitude rubbing off on them or just their own instinctual judge of character that most animals had, the raptors had been stealing increasingly hostile glances at the kids.

They were intelligent, vain creatures, and used to Q telling them that they were ferocious and gorgeous. Not a one of them appreciated these jumped up little shits insulting them.

Q opened the outer gate to leave the enclosure, but Bobby pushed past him and stomped over to the raptors. They stopped chittering amongst each other and turned to regard the boy with preternatural stillness and unblinking eyes. _Hello, what’s this, a snack_?

“Ha, they’re all paying attention to me. I guess Father is right. It isn’t hard to be a trainer here.”

“Don’t get too close,” Q said. “They’re only giving you the time of day because they think you’re prey.”

Q knew his raptors. Bless their cold little reptilian hearts, they were not amenable to just anyone waltzing into or near their enclosure, and he calmly yanked the boy out of harm’s reach a split second before they leapt at the gates, clawed hands reaching through the bars. 005 snatched a bit of the boy’s shirt and his razor-sharp claw sliced through fabric like a hot knife through butter.

“Play nice, double-ohs,” Q said. “Eating children is a last resort.” He grinned widely, channeling his best impression of The Joker before shoving the kid back on the other side of the outer fence.

The velociraptors promptly had an impressive attack of the melodramas. They shrieked after them, scratching their claws on the metal bars, and making an ungodly racket that had all the boys pale-faced and stumbling even further back from the outer fence. Q grinned at the meltdown and made a note to bring them a large rabbit from the coolers as a reward.

Yes, it was going to be a long night, Q thought as he herded his new charges into the observation galley. He had a few movies that he could play on the wall projector, and he hoped that would be enough to keep them occupied until lights out.

_After midnight_:

Q woke up to someone breathing in his face.

A lot of breathing.

None of it human. And the creature cuddled up to him was definitely not one of his cats.

Q’s lizard brain froze, and he carefully took stock of his situation before he moved. He quickly concluded that he was too old to sleep in a low, portable hammock all night and resolved that he’ll refuse to take part in any more summer camp activities. And if they tried to make him, he’d take the vacation time he had stockpiled and come back when it was over.

A throaty, familiar chirp of greeting had him only relaxing a little. As fond as 007 seemed to be of him, Q knew very well that the little velociraptor could rip his face off. Q opened his eyes, finding himself nose to snout with 007, who trilled very softly. It was a very quiet version of the warning trill that the velociraptors used to indicate danger.

On Q’s other side, he felt another dinosaur stir and echo the soft danger-trill. Q had the shocking realization that the thing he’d feared for a long time had come true: that most if not all the velociraptors had escaped their enclosure. There were nine of the little monsters, and if they didn’t seem impressive individually, together they made for a deadly hunting pack capable of taking down a moose.

Although, in those nightmares he figured they’d be hunting one of the other dinosaurs, or even a park guest with intent to eat them. He really didn’t think that he’d be ground zero in a bizarre velociraptor cuddle-pile. The turkey-sized dinos were clustered around and on him, settled down like a bunch of nesting birds. He was pretty sure that 008 was the one lounging across his feet and made a slightly hysterical note to himself to check his shoelaces.

007 danger-trilled again.

Q turned his head. He and Felix Leiter were supposed to be locked in with five campers. But all he saw was five empty bedrolls and Felix in his own portable hammock on the other side of the room, snoring.

“Felix,” he whispered. Nothing, so he went for a stage whisper: “_FELIX._”

There was a snuffle, and then Felix was sitting bolt upright in his swaying hammock. He met Q’s gaze and Felix’s eyes widened in horror.

“What the fuck, Q?”

“Help?”

The 00s let out a collective hiss, and 007 crouched on Q’s chest, but those wicked claws were careful.

“I don’t think they want to let me up just yet,” Q said.

“How’d they get in? And where are the kids?”

“Pretty sure it’s all connected,” Q said. “If they get eaten by something, serves them right.”

The velociraptors trilled all together, singing to Q and Felix like a spooky choir.

They were ferocious, highly intelligent creatures. Q had found during his long association with raptors in general that they were loyal, after a fashion, and usually had a legitimate reason for when they did something odd.

“I don’t see any blood,” Felix said. “Are you hurt?” He climbed out of his hammock cautiously. Years ago, Felix had lost most of a hand to a Utahraptor and had since developed a very healthy respect for them and their tiny cousins.

“No. I think they’re trying to warn us about something,” Q said. “I’ve never seen them act like this.”

“Let me do a quick check of the outside,” Felix said. “It’s possible that the kids decided to go on an adventure after hours. How on earth did you not know you had a bunch of raptors on you?”

“I’m used to my cats sleeping with me,” Q said, a little embarrassed. “One gets used to cuddling and small paws stepping over you at night.”

Felix rolled his eyes and reached for the lockbox containing his stunner. Then he looked at the little raptors clustered around Q. They watched him with bright, calculating eyes. Not for the first time he wondered how intelligent they really were. Q often talked to them like they were people, and he’d walked in on a ton of conversations on any variety of topics. Sometimes he got the feeling that they responded, in their own ways. They knew that he was a friend of Q’s, and one of the few they tolerated to care for them in Q’s absence—007 pined like a fool whenever Q went on vacation—but did that make him _pack_ in their estimation?

“Come on,” he said, in the same even tones Q had used to cajole them on numerous occasions. He made eye contact with the five on sentry duty around Q’s hammock. “We need to find the kids. Come help me, you lot.”

They chittered at him, and then looked to Q for affirmation. Q pursed his lips. They really ought to put them back in their enclosure. But. _But_. “Go on,” Q said to his reptilian guards.

The five sentries scampered over to Felix and waited, eyes bright and tails sweeping side to side in anticipation. They only came up to just over his knee, but he wasn’t fooled about how dangerous they were. He swore for a moment he had a ghost pain in one of his missing fingers.

“All right, you lot. Let me up.” Q said. 

He plucked up a protesting 007 and shimmied until the raptors sitting on him moved.

“I’ll radio it in,” Q said. He stretched and reached went to investigate the door to the observation galley—which had been locked and now was wide open.

The velociraptors growled and stood between him and the door. 001 snapped at Q when he tried to move past them.

“What the hell,” Q said. They let Felix through, but when Q tried to follow, they closed ranks and hissed at him.

“They don’t want you to leave,” Felix said.

007 danger-trilled.

Q’s blood ran cold as his brain caught up with the implications. “I think we might have a bigger problem than a few missing campers.”

007 chirruped affirmatively.

Strategically placed around each enclosure were weapons lockers. After the massive issues had by the original parks in terms of dinosaurs getting loose and eating people, all handlers and park staff had training and access to weaponry. Q hated it but understood the necessity. He went to the observation galley locker now, punched in his code and pulled out two tranquilizer rifles. He checked them over and gave one to Felix.

“All right,” Q said. “Happy?”

The velociraptors made disgruntled noises, but they let him pass through.

“Enclosure 15 to Tanner,” Q said into the radio.

“Tanner here.”

“We’ve had a jailbreak,” Q said grimly.

“007 again?”

Q eyed the raptors fanned out at his feet, watching him. “Um.” How to explain that they all escaped in a way that wouldn’t get them all in deep shit. “The campers seem to have gone on a midnight adventure. You should check the enclosures and make sure everyone, human or otherwise is where they should be. And the raptors seem to have alerted us to their…escape.”

“Roger,” Tanner said. Then, more irritably, “Damn kids. Every time. I’ll activate their trackers.”

Outside, the raptors went still, snouts lifted to the breeze. Q didn’t hear a peep out of any of them. They looked to 007, who muttered and looked at Q.

“Let’s go, then,” Q said.

He should put them back in their enclosure, and he would, if he knew that they’d stay put. But the velociraptors were acting weirdly even by their standards, and honestly? Q felt better with them nearby. In any case, he reckoned that they’d find the truant children faster with them than without.

The raptors took off. They were a hunting pack and used to working in concert with each other as part of their training, so Q and Felix had to run to keep up with them as they chittered like hunting cats and prepared to run down their prey.

“How sure are we that they’re not going to eat Bobby or Timmy or whoever?” asked Leiter.

Q had no good answer. “It’ll be fine,” he said, unconvincingly.

The lights along the path cut out.

Q tapped a sequence on his training clicker, and he heard small claws scratching their way to him. The night wasn’t pitch black—there was a half moon and the glow of distant streetlamps in the park—so he was able to make out the shiny, reflective eyes of his velociraptors obediently clustered at his feet, waiting.

He stood quietly and listened.

A scream, high and bloodcurdling, cut through the air. Even the raptors startled.

“The big raptor cages,” Q said, a little despairingly. Leiter was already radioing back to headquarters.

He could almost see it: a group of boys, unimpressed with the small raptors would take themselves on an adventure to find the big raptors. If that was all they did, the raptors wouldn’t be so upset, and there wouldn’t be screaming. The two men and their pack sprinted flat out toward the utahraptor exhibit.

Q was unprepared for what happened next.

One minute he was running, and the next he felt like he’d been broadsided by a train with claws and foul breath. He didn’t have time to raise his rifle or do before he was airborne and then smacking down on the ground with a raptor’s clawed hand at his throat. His rifle clattered out of reach, jarred from his hands.

The park only had two of the larger raptors, named Green and Silver for their distinctive colored markings, and they were mean, crafty bastards. It took all of Q’s training, experience, and nerve to handle them, because although they were larger versions of his lovelies, they had none of their temperaments. He could handle them, but only just barely and he always had help. Unlike the velociraptors, Q hadn’t raised those two, and they felt no particular loyalty or feeling towards him other than _I think we could eat him. I think I _want_ to eat him_.

Q didn’t stand a chance. The larger raptors were intelligent, fast, and deadly. Green was an unpleasant sod, but Silver was both brilliant and mad as a hatter.

But so were the velociraptors.

Q felt the raptor’s rancid breath in his face and felt the claws raking through his tshirt. He saw three-inch long teeth and thought with startling clarity: _This is it; mum is going to stand over my grave and say, “I told you so. I told you a raptor was going to eat you.”_

He also heard a chorus of ungodly screeches. The raptor let him go, and staggered sideways, batting at the velociraptors that attacked as a group. They hopped like popcorn, raking the larger raptor’s hide with their claws and gnawing on whatever they could reach. 008 chomped on an ankle, while 004 and 003 got up behind Silver’s (it was Silver, the evil-eyed bastard) shoulder blades.

Whenever Silver managed to throw one of the smaller raptors, it came leaping back with a vengeful screech.

Leiter’s rifle fired twice. Silver snarled and whipped around, but already his movements were slowing down. Tranquilizer darts protruded from Silver’s neck.

Q shot him a third time, just to be sure.

The darts did their job. Silver stumbled a few steps, gave Q a supreme look of absolute hatred, and collapsed, twitching, 007 still chewing on the back of his neck.

Leiter gave the raptor a wide berth and circled around to Q.

“You okay?” he asked, giving Q a hand up.

He could already feel the bruise swelling from where he hit his head on the concrete, one of his eyeglass lenses had a crack in it, and blood seeped from scratches left by claws. He didn’t need to look to know it was going to be a long night in the emergency room getting stitches, but he was lucky not to have been disemboweled.

“I’m fine,” he said. He clicked a sequence that had some of the velociraptors minding him.

007 was now trying to eat Silver’s face, with a furious, cold sort of determination.

“007, come on. Hey, come on now, it’s not gentlemanly to try to eat somebody when they’re out cold. 007!”

Blood dripping from his jaws, 007 snarled at him.

“Come on, now,” Q clicked a sequence. “We’ve a job to do.”

The ferocious little beast growled at him, and evil-eyed Silver.

“I know, but there’s another one out there.”

008 stopped gnawing on Silver’s ankle, 002 and 009 stopped chewing on Silver’s tail, and slowly the small raptors came to attention. They were bright eyed and bloody, with tails swishing very slowly from side to side. Their snouts were raised to the wind. They eyed him too, because he was covered with blood and very clearly not well.

Q knew that they looked at him like prey. This was just the first time he actually felt like it. Leiter had his stunner in hand and waiting.

Q clicked an attention sequence. All of them looked to him and waited for orders.

“The cavalry has arrived,” Leiter said.

Armed and armored guards trotted around the corner.

The velociraptors’ attention broke, and they turned to the newcomers with a collective hiss.

The guards raised their weapons.

“No!” Q called. “No, it’s fine. Please don’t come any closer. I’m going to take them, and then you can remove Silver to the veterinary ward.”

“We can’t do that Q,” said the first guard. He flicked up his face shield. Tanner “What are they doing out?”

“Saving my life,” Q said, snarling. He leveled his tranquilizer rifle with his left hand and had his clicker in his right. “If anyone shoots my velociraptors, _I will shoot them_.” It wouldn’t be as fatal as a proper bullet, but whoever caught a dart would wake up with the mother of all hangovers.

The velociraptors growled and fanned out, placing themselves between Q and Leiter, and Tanner and the guards.

Q backed away. He clicked a follow sequence.

Led by 007, they fell back to him, one-by-one.

Tanner sighed. “Did you find the kids?”

“Not before this one found us,” Leiter said, nudging the unconscious raptor with his foot. Under his dark complexion, he looked ashy in the light of the rifle-lights. “It attacked Q, and they attacked it.”

Another scream rent the air.

“Well, if someone’s screaming, they’re still breathing,” Q muttered. “Come on, help us find the hoodlums.”

The little raptors promptly forgot Tanner and his men and trotted off down the pathway, tails waving jauntily side-to-side and claws clicking on the concrete, like happy little murder-chickens.

Q, wincing all the way, followed them. He heard Tanner giving orders for Silver’s removal as they left the scene of the crime.

* * * * * * *

Green was caught without incident. That raptor had a rather laconic attitude generally and was more interested in finding junk food than eating live prey. Tanner told Q later that they found the large raptor in a dumpster that hadn’t been emptied yet, happily stuffing pizza, half-eaten burgers, and hot dogs in his face. They took Green to the veterinary ward as well, on the off chance that he might have eaten something that disagreed with him.

Q was forever getting in trouble with the veterinary staff for allowing 007 the odd French fry and breaded chicken wing, so he could only imagine the paroxysms of horror that a dumpster diving raptor would inspire.

They found four of the missing children hiding in various storefronts, babbling about being chased by raptors. Clearly, the adventure did not turn out the way that they planned. Like Q expected, they wanted to see the bigger raptors and somehow managed to let them loose instead.

The fifth child was the ringleader, Bobby. He’d had the foresight to climb a tree, which was fine until he wanted to come down and had nine snapping dinosaurs ringing the trunk, singing a creepy little hunting song.

Incidentally, he was the one making the blood-curdling screaming sounds. The louder he screamed, the louder the raptors screamed back, until half the park was in an uproar.

“All right, good job my lovelies,” Q said, wading into the chaos. “Yes, you found him, such smart raptors. Let’s go so he can come down.”

They shrieked at him, then went back to dancing around the tree trunk like a bunch of conjured demons. This was clearly the most fun they’d ever had in their lives, and they were determined to make the most of it.

Q was tired, bloody, and getting a headache from all the racket. He saw a flash of bloody blue and scooped 007 up like a football, tucking the raptor under his arm and striding off, breaking a bunch of training rules in one fell swoop.

It wouldn’t be a bad idea for all of them to go to the vet. With any luck, Eve would be on duty, and she’d agree to stitch Q up along with his raptors.

The shrieking died off, abruptly. 007 froze stiff as a board and squawked, grey eyes bugging out as the raptor stared at Q’s face, shocked and affronted that Q dared to manhandle his person in such a fashion.

He clicked a follow sequence over his shoulder as he walked away and heard the eight other raptors fall in line behind him, sniggering softly.

They were in luck. By time Q and his parade of raptors arrived at the clinic on the other side of the park, Eve Moneypenny was already waiting for them, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards. He supposed they made something of a pathetic sight, all of them.

“You’re adorable,” she told them. “Let’s get you guys all checked out, all right?”

Q didn’t remember most of the night after that. While everyone was occupied vetting the raptors, Q commandeered the short, uncomfortable bench in the waiting room. In the morning, he woke up back in his hammock at the velociraptor exhibit gallery with stitches and bandages, and absolutely no clue of how he got there.

“There he is,” Moneypenny said. She was in Felix’s abandoned hammock, reading the morning newspaper. 004 was sprawled across her feet, sleeping like a large, scaly cat. “Good morning, Q.”

Something snuffled in Q’s ear.

“Moneypenny,” Q stage whispered. “_Moneypenny_, there’s a dinosaur by my head. I think it’s drooling on me.”

“Living your inner ten-year-old’s dream, then,” she said, turning the page to read the comics. “Don’t worry, it’s just 007. The others are back in their enclosure, sleeping off last night.”

“Why is he still out? And 004?”

“007 wouldn’t leave you,” she said. “You babbled about not wanting to go to the hospital and were altogether a disagreeable bastard until we agreed to vet you and put you back in your hammock. And that one there wouldn’t let you out of his beady little eyesight. As for 004, well, she’s my favorite. Aren’t you, pretty girl?”

004 made fond chittering sounds back at Moneypenny.

“I hate summer camp,” Q said.

“We all know. You told us last night, in graphic detail, what you would do if you ever had to deal with campers and sleepovers again. You’d make a great B-rated villain in an action film. It was a fabulous evil monologue. And all the while, you were petting 007 like he was your cat, Pampuria. Don’t worry, I filmed it all for the company Christmas party.”

Q clapped a hand to his face. “Do I still have a job?”

“I think you might be a hero, because they’ve officially done away with the Sleepovers, forever. I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to drink for free in any bar around here until you’re ninety.”

“Did anyone get eaten?”

“We haven’t found any bodies, so probably not. Felix told us you came close to becoming a snack yourself. We gave you a tetanus shot and some antibiotics. You really should go to a proper doctor for people.”

“I will, I will,” Q said.

He probably wouldn’t.

Q winced and swung his legs over the side of the hammock. 007 hopped out of the hammock, chittering.

“Time for good little raptors to go back into their enclosure,” he said. “Because if Tanner or Mansfield shows up to check on us, we’re all going to be in trouble.”

The raptors beat him to the gate.


End file.
